Daze
by Skylark Evanson
Summary: Roy. Wally had high expectations because of the others. He never recognized Roy's inability to keep up his skill set through the years. He'd watch Dick flip off a building, Babs charge off a rooftop, Tim vault over ten foot tall opponents, and Artemis would whip her bow out to keep herself afloat every time. But Roy wasn't them.


**A/N: This was requested by tumblr user dwcyrus as a Roy/Wally one of them gets amnesia fic and I didn't wanna turn it into the traditional "have to go through the romantic process of falling in love again" and instead figured that I could tackle a slightly different battle here.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own YJ or any affiliated characters.  
Warning: Language.**

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_**Daze**_

Days pass by like a fog on the coast that never lifts. Everything feels thick and heavy, weighing Wally down as he waits for news. He downs coffee like alcohol, knowing one does no more good than the other with his metabolism. It just feels good, goes down hard, and keeps him warm.

Phantom buzzing is in his pocket, and although it feels like Roy's vibrating tone, he knows it's not because his volume's been on the highest setting for two weeks now and if he can't hear it, he doesn't even pay attention to the way he wants so badly to feel it vibrate to let him know it's Roy. It's his phantom limb.

That damn parkour shit. Wally expects a lot out of the non meta team members because he's used to Nightwing just fucking soaring because he takes off and he's like an eagle: picturesque grace. And then Barbara has similar moves, except hers carry more force and a bit more power. Tim, beneath the other two in skills only by a little, has more calculated moves, obviously the makings of a perfect mini Batman. And Artemis has never been the most powerful, never could be when her agility was limited compared to her competition, but she knew how to get herself out of sticky shit.

Roy. Wally had high expectations because of the others. He never recognized Roy's inability to keep up his skill set through the years. He'd watch Dick flip off a building, Babs charge off a rooftop, Tim vault over ten foot tall opponents, and Artemis would whip her bow out to keep herself afloat every time. But Roy wasn't them.

So when Wally simply watched him fall, he watched for the bow to come out. He expected cat-like reflexes. He waited for that moment of prowess to arrive.

Until he just started screaming.

And Wally can't get the sound out of his head.

He sees it when he closes his eyes. The shadow of the archer flying through the air, arms flailing, limbs thrashing, his face distorted in an expression that Wally recognizes only now as sheer terror. And he doesn't just shout or holler profanity, like usual. He's just screaming, fucking screaming and the sound rings in his ears at night and he's cried so many times and it just doesn't get out of his head-

So now he goes through the motions of his days and waits for that call. He studies regularly. He doesn't visit the hospital. He feeds the cat. He doesn't call the doctors. He sleeps in Roy's shirts. He doesn't acknowledge that Roy might not come home to him.

And he misses him like hell. He wants Roy to be safe and home, and he just wants to wrap him up in a blanket and kiss him once or twice and maintain some semblance of normalcy.

And, middle of a lecture, there it is, Roy's ringtone, the vibrate, and he isn't even going to waste the time to answer that damn phone because the zeta tube is less than a block away and he's there in a heartbeat, and suddenly Kid Flash is clocking in at Mount Justice only to head out into Happy Harbor a second later to get to the hospital and get through that front door with his hands shoved in his pockets and trying not to speed now that he could actually get caught and he moves towards the hallway where he knows his Roy is and he just wants his damn archer back in his arms-

"Wally."

Dick stops him at the door, motorcycle helmet under one arm.

"That had better not have been some kind of sick joke calling me to tell me he's-"

"He's not," responds Dick with severe eyes and a straight expression. "He's fine. Same injuries the doctors told you first time around."

Wally recites it because he's heard it two or three times and each time is just burned into his mind: "Two broken ribs, fractured wrist and humerus, cracked collarbone, I know." When he blinks, behind his eyelids, he remembers seeing Roy crash into the hard cement before his whole body went absolutely still. "I'll be careful not to hug him too tightly."

When Wally tried to push past, Dick blocked his way again, hand on his friend's shoulder. "You need to know, Wally: he's not quite all there. Figured I should warn you now before you ambushed him-"

"We'll be fine," Wally says, pushing past him without caring much for whatever else he has to say, he just wants to get back to Roy.

And he looks like he hasn't been in a coma for two weeks, really. His eyes are bright, and his smile's sweet as ever. Sure, he's wrapped up in enough gauze to make a half-assed mummy costume but he still looks good as ever. He's talking lowly to the nurse in a raspy voice, and Wally actually isn't even sure how to approach this, he hasn't even visited since Roy was admitted, he didn't want to stay, he couldn't live his life entirely by Roy's side but he also recognizes that he didn't want to live without him. For fuck's sake, they're engaged at least, of course he didn't want to live without him.

"If I could get your number, that'd be really great," said Roy with one of those signature half smiles that he fired off at the nurse with a slow wink.

"I would, but it looks like your fiancé's here."

And then those blue eyes turn to look at Wally, who's just entered the room, and his nose crinkles up and his eyes get narrow and squinty whilst looking this new guy up and down like some unimpressive plant. "I'm not gay."

Bomb. Dropped.

The nurse looks between the two for a moment before opting to excuse herself from the room in something of a whispered "need to check the charts".

"Uh," Wally scoffs after feeling his heart just drop like a plane dead in the air: everyone on board knows they're dying, it's only a matter of when. "I think our engagement bands say otherwise? And so does our three year relationship? And the fact that you take me from-"

"Hey, I know what amnesia means but that doesn't mean it turns me gay. I've never been gay." Roy's face remains screwed up in disgust, his teeth even showing now as his lip curls upward.

"Well, no," Wally begins, realizing the full extent of what Dick had meant, "you've always told me you were bi, so technically-"

"You're not even a hot gay. Jesus Christ."

Splitting apart, breaking. Wally feels like he's running out of things to say, low on pitiful pleas that could spawn into a memory, and all Roy's doing is pushing him away as sharply and as quickly as possible. "Ca-Can you just hear me out?" asks Wally for a second, just needing room for an argument, time to state his case.

His face softens; his nose crinkles less. Roy sighs in surrender. Because they must be engaged for a reason, he guesses. "You've got two minutes."

"We live together in your apartment in Star City. I take classes at Stanford during the day and come home to you every night." Wally's words are basically tumbling out as he comes up with the best things he can to maybe convince Roy that they were, at one point anyways, in love and that, yes, he would screw another dude because of love because they were great together. "We make dinner side-by-side when we can, otherwise whoever gets home first picks out the take-out menu for the evening." Wally's eyes keep flickering around the room as he tries to think of all their little relationship things that make them who they are as a single unit. "We've been kicked out of twelve Chinese buffets and every single time you have clocked at least two waiters in the process."

Roy snickers. Loudly.

"We've got a cat named Speedy because you used to be Speedy and everyone used to call me Speedy and it's kind of a joke but no one else gets it and I think we've hit the point where we don't even get it anymore because we named him when we were drunk enough to buy two hundred shots for an entire gay bar."

And Roy laughs again.

"And we watch the Oceans movies religiously because they're your absolute favorite." Now he just feels like he's rambling but it's really all he's got because he's grasping desperately at straws. "And when we shower together, it's hardly ever sexy but more like 'I messed up my shoulder, can you reach my back for me?' And I forget to make the bed every morning but you do it like it's your damn job. And everyone else says we're like the most toxic relationship ever, just waiting to implode, but I fucking love you."

And that was probably about two minutes and Wally feels out of breath and his heart feels no better than it did two minutes earlier because Roy's now just sitting there quietly, staring.

Wally can't even read him.

Roy's got little ticks, like when he touches his face, specifically his cheeks, he's trying not to get angry. When he scratches his neck, he's nervous. If he looks down too much, he's lying. He'll ball his hands up in fists when he's afraid of losing control of himself or the situation.

But the man that's in front of Wally is a blank slate.

It causes a whole different kind of wound to split Wally's chest wide open. Because that Roy may never come back.

"Here, can I-" God he feels ridiculous even thinking this could work but some do call it desperation. "Can I just kiss you?"

"Who do you think I am? Fucking Snow White?!"

Well, he'd still have the same foul language. Wally moves towards him slowly, standing at his bedside now. His hands are shaking nervously, and he can feel his palms sweating. "No," says Wally softly, sucking in a deep breath. "But I do think you're bi and that if you can get past that, we can work on getting us back."

During his rant, he'd pulled out his fiancé's wedding band- it had to be taken off for medical reasons and Dick had brought it over the day after Roy had gone into the hospital. Wally'd kept it in his pocket ever since, keeping it close to him, keeping faith. Right now, he pushes that ring into Roy's palm.

Roy takes it in his left hand because his entire right side is jacked up (and Wally remembers watching him twist like he's trying to gain control of his freefall but he's still just screaming and then the cracking sound of his whole body hitting the hard ground-) and, after giving Wally a suspicious glance, begins to inspect it slowly. After a long moment, he asked, "Who proposed?"

"You did." Wally ran one hand through his hair, shutting his eyes as he ran through the memory behind closed lids. "Except you didn't want to deal with the drama and reaction and just left the box open on my nightstand with a little note that read something like 'put it on if yes, put it back in my sock drawer if no' and then you when you woke up a couple hours later we just had breakfast and didn't make a big deal out of it or anything but-" Wally feels like he's about to cry because it was such a good morning. "-but I could tell you were happy. You smiled a lot that morning. And you even offered to do the dishes."

Roy keeps staring at the ring, his hands now still. "And we're really engaged?"

"For seven months now," affirmed Wally, his throat closing up. This is why he didn't come around before Roy woke up. He didn't want to cry. He hates crying, he doesn't want to cry now. He's fiddling nervously with his own ring, twisting it around his finger. He really thinks he's going to cry.

"And do you still want to kiss me?"

"Every day for the rest of my life." His eyes are watering so he just wipes with the pads of his fingers at his lower lids, hoping to tackle the problem before it became prevalent but his voice and sniffling will give it away sooner or later.

"And you think it'll help me remember?" Roy asks slowly, his eyes tracing their way up Wally to meet his eyes.

"I think it'll help you remember that kissing me was pretty good." He attempts a laugh, but it sounds strangled. "That's how this all started."

There was a slight lull before the injured man asked, "And you won't get mad if I don't instantly remember?" Roy's eyes bore slight concern even though Wally was an absolute stranger. "I mean, from- from what you say, it sounds like we were pretty good t-together." And he's still visibly nervous about what's to come.

"We were great together." He sniffles. Wally feels pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. "Besides," he says, trying to regain his composure, "I can't get mad. You're hurt. I understand. Science and medicine can only do so much and go so far."

Roy keeps eye contact now, still holding the ring. "Then," he starts before another drawn out pause. He has to start up again and for some reason now he sounds nervous. "Then let's try this. Kiss me."

As if Wally needs to be told. He bends down and tilts his head out of habit and just kisses Roy softly and slowly, tears now rolling hot down his cheeks as his hand naturally slips around his lover's neck and his fingers lightly touch the peach fuzz at the nape of his neck and it feels like he's reached his own Heaven.

And after a few heartbeats, Roy starts to kiss him back.

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**A/N: I wanted to add in a little "Bereft" reference in there but that didn't happen because it'd look bad and feel awkward and so instead I added a bunch of references from my other Roy/Wally fic "Toxic" (hella kudos if you can catch them). Anyways, leave a review and feedback, thanks for reading (:**

**~Sky**


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